


nelyn stuff

by ratwhisperer



Category: Elder Scrolls
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-02 00:40:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8644624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratwhisperer/pseuds/ratwhisperer
Summary: this is what happens when you don't read the heretic books around you or pay enough attention to local folklore, you jump into conclusions driven by your iron will and absolute belief that your way is the only way.





	1. rushed conclusions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is what happens when you don't read the heretic books around you or pay enough attention to local folklore, you jump into conclusions driven by your iron will and absolute belief that your way is the only way.

_[A report from E3 405, directed to Caius Cosades, written in Teldryn’s clear handwriting, dictated by Nelyn, obviously rewritten and corrected many times.]_

I’ve attached to these papers the information on (Urshilaku) Ashlander customs and beliefs that was given to us by Zainsubani. We found out that every camp is in dire need of cure blight spells and potions at this moment, according to the informant, so specific gift-hunting won’t be necessary again and we might win the right of being called guests at the Ashlander’s camps more easily.

In our way to the camp, we’ve seen many disturbing things; we’ve run into those called Dreamers, soul-sick people that serve the Sixth House, and entered a Dagoth hideout on accident. I have some theories regarding the Sixth House, history and books aside; from what we’ve seen, this is not a simple smuggling guild, but something much more dangerous and terrifying.

As an experiment, to see if this is a problem of spiritual nature as I suspected, we requested authorities in Ald'Ruhn to let us watch over a feverish Dreamer that was recently jailed (and had attacked us in the cornerclub in plain sight, before that), to see if there was any way to cure their soul-sickness. We stayed with them without ever entering their cell for a total of sixteen hours. Copying the notes below.

  * Sometimes there, not there. Blank look, eyes do not react to light either.
  * No traces of any kind of blight, however they have a very strong sickness in the soul and they are under the influence of an incredibly strong spirit or being. They can’t identify themselves beyond being part of this “Sixth House” and a “herald of dreams”, “listener of the Sharmat’s music” and other nonsense, we suspect the immense mental strain of this mind-washing spell has destroyed their sense of self, common sense and consciousness.
  * Suddenly speaks gibberish in the middle of speaking and completely forgets about surroundings, switches from very calm and responsive to violent, self-destructive moods, they had to be restrained to keep the experiment going. Says to be humming certain tones of a song in their head (the song of the sixth house apparently, and this could mean the possession is felt as music and voices to an afflicted person?), they don’t have control over the volume of their chanting or humming.
  * When they were asked about the sixth house and how it was like to belong there, they looked like they were describing an utopia, they made emphasis on the union, a “common mind”, intimacy, unity that is House Dagoth, that it has the noblest goal (to overthrow the n'wah outlanders and the Tribunal) and it is the only hope for Morrowind.
  * I am completely unable to lift the soul-disease, it’s a curse too powerful to be lifted by me. I only managed to deeply unsettle the person while trying, they cried out for Dagoth Ur.



We decided to put the person out of their suffering, with the authorities’ permission, may their soul finally be at peace. Then, we found out that a couple of months ago, the house of a Redoran Councilor was raided by Dagoth creatures and only his wife, Brara Morvayn, survived, and that these beings kept coming into the house despite being driven away several times. We were to investigate the house, kill any Dagoth monster we find there, and try to find the source, or what makes it attract ash monsters.

The place had a highly cursed aura, and was spiritually noisy; that means that various spirits were summoned or contacted there, or simply that all the brainwashing Dagoth magic there took a toll on the spiritual balance of the place, attracting evil entities (or maybe it was Dagoth Ur the entity summoned). The house itself, being a live gigantic bug, was also blighted along with the food stock inside, but the furniture and other things made of non-organic materials were not. There were five people inside, three completely disfigured and monstrous by corprus and the others had their face hollowed out, they all tried to kill us and were obviously beyond any rationality. We found some kind of worshiping room, with a makeshift altar where bowls with severed growths and flesh were placed as offerings, and at the center, a red statuette with three eyes.

While taking it to the temple in a bag, to inspect it further and avoid contact, we both heard faint whispers and felt some presence poking at us, like it was inviting us to touch the statuette again. With the help of a Temple priest, we destroyed the thing, and I found out that it’s some kind of long-distance communication device that only works for Sixth House members. Therefore, it shouldn’t be surprising the Sixth House is evading every attack and ambush; they’re already watching us, they have spies and these objects, they have the advantage of communicating with each other in every moment, unlike us who have to travel far or pay unreliable delivery boys to get letters around.

We reached the conclusion that the Sixth House is definitely not only a criminal organization against the various powers of Morrowind, but also poisons the people’s minds and uses various artificial diseases that affect both the mind and the flesh to turn them into their favor, for some “higher goal”, be it this unity they speak so much about or destroying the current balance of powers. It should be safe to assume that Dagoth Ur is a real entity, perhaps various powerful people under a council with that name, and judging from all they are causing, they are either extremely powerful witches or some kind of spirit or god. No normal mage can make hundreds of people completely delusional, manipulate their minds and deprive them of their thoughts while keeping an artificial plague alive and a reactionary organization-movement working, and even if we take the multiple people hypothesis as true, it’s still impossible.

This could be blamed on a really vengeful daedric prince, but the nature of the plagues, the mind-manipulating, and the enchantments on the statuette are not daedric at all; they are made of the same essence as anything from Nirn, and it’s actually stronger in them than in actual live beings, it’s like they’re made of pure creation and chaos… I honestly don’t have an idea what are we facing here, or if we can stop it at all.

All these Nerevarine tales is only distracting both the Powers and the people; there’s no time to wait idly for some legendary hero or the Tribunal to kill this obviously unfathomable being with only a sword, this is not the way Dagoth Ur will be finished and we need to act fast. I respect local beliefs and the will of gods, but reincarnation is something that simply does not exist in none of the Worlds around us, and I doubt having the soul of an ancient murdered elf will give anyone a better chance to kill the Sharmat. The Temple does not help; they only silence the voices that make it known how things really are and pretend everything’s under their control and supervision, when this is getting completely out of hand.

A threat like this shouldn’t even exist, the Sixth House is a menace to our existence, and when it grows stronger, who knows if it’ll be satisfied solely with Morrowind? In any case, the people living here don’t deserve this fate, and I won’t tolerate living with the burden of not having done something about this.

I propose this; we erase the Sharmat from the Divine. We strip them from the fervent belief and fear that powers them, we bring down the miasma they’ve put the people in. We cure the sicknesses and tend to the fragmented belief and spirituality of the people, through magic, will and faith, and then everything else will wrap up. This is why I seek to contact the Wise Women and the Mabrigashi from the Ashlands, and create some kind of council made of seers, where we will undo the distortions they’ve brought into this world with healing. We will wake Dreamers, cure plagues, clear minds, and wage silent but victorious war against them. And when they are the last one standing, weakened, then we will give the final blow. I cannot do any of these things alone, but the combined efforts of many other mysticist witches may surpass any of their snares. Together, we will perform a miracle. No need of a mythical Nerevarine or Tribunal; we have what we need right here.

I understand that you, as a very earthly agent, might find this ridiculous and impossible, just mad witch rambling, and that you will continue to give me different missions and tasks. From now and on, this plan will become my main focus and I strongly believe this is the right course of action, but I will continue doing tasks for you, because I know I can’t escape from being part of your group and I value my head staying at its place.

N.

_[Then, Nelyn would find out by himself that his plan was doomed from the start, and he was forced to accept the burden of becoming someone else.]_

_[In an alternate world, Nelyn is driven away from every Ashlander camp like a blighted shalk, Vvardenfell crumbles apart, and he has only three witches along with him. He thought everyone would believe in his miracle, that this belief would bring it to life. But no one wanted to make the sacrifices, or listen. And so, four unprepared witches fall in the Heart Chamber to a laughing god, in a last desperate attack.]_


	2. on afterlife, spirituality and mortality

_[From no earlier than E3 400, Vvardenfell, very early nerevarine events; nobody even thought about a civil war happening yet. This is not a text, but rather strings of late night thoughts; let’s remember Nelyn can’t access magic tools that allow them to write yet.]_

After spending some time here and with dunmer, I started to wonder if I could also have ancestors like them. You know, they drag the spirits of their dead, whether they want it or not, from wherever they are resting, which seems pretty… horrible and necromantic to me, but I can’t say that because they get really offended; most of those that I’ve met are in love with the idea of reuniting with their ancestors, helping their descendants and dedicating to gossip for eternity, staying in those dusty tombs forever (those that are not, are usually runaway disowned daedra worshippers, and they’re often more agreeable than them).

It just seems so awful to me… condemning your own spirit to remain half in Earth half somewhere else, and binding it to particular tombs and bones and ash… I’d rather wander the world and worlds as a spirit, free from family… not unlike I do now, until I get tired and become something new and different. Why don’t dunmer see that death, just as life, must end? Things and energy should be reused again properly, not spend too much time existing in one plane or another; the universe needs to cycle and move forward.

But also… I see my friends summoning their parents, lost loved ones, or unknown ancestors, seeking counsel or comfort and I can’t help but rot in envy. They have a family, they have strong ties with their family, they know their roots, can trace their lineage to the first era, they have somewhere they belong to, some sense of identity. Even orphans, outcasts (to some point) and other social pariahs can access to this…privilege; they all have someone that loves them unconditionally, that is bound to protect them.

And here I am. Not being able to do such a basic thing. Not having the faintest idea who my parents were, of what I’m made of. My dunmeri-ness is some kind of coat of paint, and below it exists something mediocre and nameless. Can’t cast fire, can’t speak common Dunmeris, can’t summon an ancestor, won’t live long, Houseless. It’s some kind of curse, to be too outlandish and too much of a mer for home, and too human for where I should be from, unable to fit in wherever I go.

…

But at the same time… it’s what makes me me, I kind of feel proud, when I’m not feeling down because of the social poking. It’s a bit lonely, yes, but I got to see and experience life in a way neither a dunmer or a nord can, notice tiny bits and understand the whys of society better than them; being half an outsider carries the benefit of becoming an observer, but also getting to opine and participate, and most importantly, the potential to change things.

After all, isn’t being undefined what defines me?

 

* * *

 

 

_[E3 407, Mournhold. Nelyn is a Telvanni councilor already, Dagoth Ur grows stronger. This is written mechanically by an enchanted quill that writes down what is dictated, in their personal diary.]_

I dread every moment I have to get inside Temple shrines, ancestral tombs, or when I hear ancestors talking and whispering from the altar room in every house. People can’t hear or perceive the things I hear and perceive, but I feel so…unwelcome, watched, judged, I can hear the spirits mocking me if they find me particularly repulsive, I can hear most of the things they say, I can’t shut them out. They notice I’m there and how I am, it’s not like with everyone else…They know they can overwhelm me easily and poke at me. Draugr were like this too; every time I went to old barrows and ruins to pay my respects and tend to the place and leave offerings, many assumed I was an intruder or suspected of me heavily, and followed me around armed, even though I bear the mark of a coven-witch in my soul.

The religious buried dead and spirits are highly insufferable for me, I have no intention of joining them. I feel more kinship with the spirits of dead adventurers I find in my travels, than I would with a supposed ancestor of mine that popped out of nowhere just to criticize me.

This is also why I’ve declined joining people’s clans so far. Some close friends have invited me into their houses (this is  something that can be done and accepted) and it would have helped when I was struggling with politics in the start, being in a house would’ve helped me, but now it’s just useless (everyone knows I come from nowhere and I don’t need social standing anymore) and I wouldn’t have accepted anyway; I’d like not to spend my eternity confined in a tomb and likely end up being the “mad spirit” that guards the place and hated by everyone but the friend there just for a new name to add to mine, and I wouldn’t like to be bound to someone and their family forever… what if we fight and don’t get along anymore, or constantly clash?

Also, people just know when you’re born into a house or not, and I’d be the fake house member forever and a joke. I prefer making up house Nivenu,  knowing it will simply die after I do and that there are no ancestors or tombs to bother after that.

Look, I named it (and so myself) after a saltrice plantation I came across in Vvardenfell, it’s just so that I don’t leave an awkward blank in official papers and letters (because not putting your clan-name is deemed informal) and also so people stop bothering me in general.

 

* * *

 

 

_[E3 432, a little cottage in Tel Fyr. The civil war and the Nerevarine events are long over, Nelyn struggles with health issues and corprus while things are stirring up in Cyrodiil. Written in the same old diary and with the same tools.]_

I wonder what will happen to me when I die. I know this is something gloomy to think about and Heck has specially told me not to be negative and NOT think about this but… My health decays with every passing day, so naturally I begin obsessing like an old hag. Let me be an old hag.

I see a funny phenomenon often; some people spend their whole life slandering religion and blaming and negating gods, and then when they have one foot on the grave, they become fervent, nearly zealous worshipers, only because they fear what will become of them in the afterlife. As someone that knows these spiritual matters well, I can tell you this simply won’t work; your final destination is the combination of what you truly feel and the deeds you’ve done in your whole life.

I’ve always been a godless heathen, sadly. I believe in belief and its power, I respect gods… but I’ve never been able to feel that dedication and love some people have towards some of them. I’m much more of a worldly person personally, I love magic and this world’s mysticisms, its people, societies and history, so I have trouble caring about what happens in other planes. 

Back in the coven, I dedicated my soul to the Earth, that was the path I chose; I didn’t follow any gods, and solely dedicated to maintaining the state of the current world, tended to the health of forests and its creatures, to the spiritual health of the city and its people, to old barrows and ruins to prevent them from disrepair, old spirits and ghosts so they may depart to Sovngarde or remain in peace. That meant I chose to stay after death to continue my duties or simply roam, then to visit Sovngarde, and dissolve into something new when I get bored of roaming, as it’s eventually bound to happen. It was a really fun job.

But…that was nearly forty years ago, and even if I practically continued to do the same things, because I feel like I’m in this planet to do all those things, they lacked the dedication and mystic bits my duties with the coven had… I mean, it’s like letting a wise woman perform her activities and duties in another country, but without any mysticisms or religion or worship or the same methodology, then she simply is not as connected to that Earth as she was with Morrowind.

I doubt my abilities to connect with Skyrim anymore; I’ve been away for too long, and it’s not like she is a home I long to return to and that I absolutely loved when I was there, these things fade away with time. And I will never connect to Morrowind beyond the strange love and affection I have for it and the Heart, from both Nerevar and Lorkhan; my duty here is superficial, act as hortator, social well being. I should not dwell in spiritual matters (even if I’d love to…) because I simply won’t ever get dunmer spirituality or participate in it, just as one of them would never understand nordic spirituality in depth, even if they read dozens of books about it, and one can’t talk or have opinions or act if one does not understand or know what’s happening and why. 

This is also why I get on better with Telvanni wizards; less spiritual crap, they like your fresh view on stuff and opinions, they don’t mind you shitting on spirits or ancestors (as long they’re not theirs)… but they will definitely ridicule you for not being able to do the “basics”, such as fire. And I can't do fire, I was the butt of jokes for a long time... 

Maybe if I was born here, I’d be a renowned seer in a room filled with comfortable pillows and hanging velvet drapery, with a ton of golden jewelry… but the idea is just funny and bizarre, I like how I am and where I’m from, money or fame is not important to me. 

Then, I should remember I stopped belonging to myself when I came to Morrowind… Remembering about the three daedra makes me bitter; the time I had to lower myself and submit to follow demons’ whims and desires, become their champion, to prevent myself and the world from falling apart or being torn in their fury. I was taught in Skyrim; should you encounter a hostile spirit stronger than you, you better strike an alliance or comply until they part or set you free or at least give you a chance to free yourself, the consequences are dire otherwise. My soul and mental integrity in exchange for the preservation of the whole world and the well being a society seemed fair enough… I’d still do it again, but I’d do everything to avoid such a situation again, or selling my own or anybody’s soul to higher powers.

But now, since I reunited with Shor’s Heart and his image in the heart of Red Mountain and became whole, they can’t use me as a puppet for their petty conflicts; I am safe from them, finally. Am I safe from the strings of fate, though?

Future is so uncertain for me… but I feel like instead of being forced into some realm leashed by some god, I’ll have a final chance, the final choice. As I will it, as it shall be.

 


End file.
